Newton's Methods
by SgtPepper592
Summary: The mathematics of Veronica Mars. Preseries.


**A/N: **This story combines my love for mathematics and Veronica Mars. But do you know what else I love? Reviews ;). (Even if you just want to say that this is really weird. I happen to wholeheartedly agree.)

**Disclaimer:** VM belongs to Rob Thomas and the CW.

**A Quick Lesson in Math (for those that don't know any elementary calculus):** (d/dx) is the symbol for a derivative, which is a rate of change. An integral is essentially the opposite, also called an antiderivative. An example is that of speed and acceleration. An object's acceleration is a measure of the rate of change of its speed, so acceleration would be the derivative of speed. Speed would be the integral of acceleration. Also, ff wouldn't let me use the 'equals' sign, so I had to write it instead. It makes the equations a little awkward.

**Newton's Methods**

_(1 + 1 + 2 equals 4)_

Four has been your lucky number for a long time (even before Logan moved to Neptune, and two plus one equalled three). You like things that are neat and organised. You're the type of girl who keeps a decorated day planner, filling in each important square with glitter pens. Four is a nice number. It's even. It isn't large and messy, but it isn't lonely either. It's special. There is magic in the number four.

For an entire year, you get to be a one in 1 + 1 + 2 equals 4.

_(2 + 2 equals 4)_

Before finishing junior high, Logan and Lilly are a couple. They're two, just like Lilly and Duncan used to be two. (Except not like Lilly and Duncan used to be two. You don't fully understand the revoltingness of this ridiculous thought until years later.)

By the time freshman year is half over, you and Duncan are a couple, too. You're still four. You believe that you'll always be four. You come in pairs now though: the two sets of best friends and the two sets of couples.

You think this is an infinitely better way to be four. Before, you'd been a '+ 1', and a '+ 1' can still be alone.

_(2 x (1 + 1) equals 4)_

The only problem with the number four is that it's not easily divisible by every smaller number. When you divide four by three, you end up with a fraction that can't be simplified.

Of course, you know that people can't be divided into fractions and live, but whenever Lilly and Logan break up it feels like it's possible. Loyalties are divided. You side with your best friend. Your boyfriend sides with his. You can't all sit together at lunch anymore. You can't hang out at the beach or at parties.

You dread these times. You never think that one day you might appreciate every equation that came before.

_(4 – 1 equals 3)_

You lose the number four on a sunny October afternoon. It was one of those very awkward (1 + 1) x (1 + 1) phases. Earlier that day, you'd worried that your perfect equation might be ending for good. The way you'd worried about it ending seemed almost laughable later (if you still felt capable of laughing, that is).

You never dreamed that you'd be the one to lose your best friend when it did. And you never thought it would end with bashed skulls on bloody patio stones.

_(1 + 1 + 1 does not equal 4)_

In the days that come immediately after, you try desperately to believe that nothing has changed; that 1 + 1 + 1 equals 4. It doesn't feel right like it used to though. Now, it's like this equation is being forced down your throat; like Winston Smith being told to believe that 2 + 2 equals 5.

It's the denial phase of grief. You want to believe that nothing is different, but even when you're not thinking about her, it's still obvious that everything is. Your dad barely comes home from the department for days, and you spend more time with Logan Echolls than you ever have before.

It's natural that you would do that. He's just lost his girlfriend. You've just lost your best friend. You both wish you could see Duncan, but Celeste won't even let him talk to either of you. And so you take comfort in each other.

By the time you and Logan return to school, you're not even speaking anymore. Your dad has accused Jake Kane of murdering your best friend, and while you may not understand his reasons, he's still your dad. All you can do is naïvely hope that your friends will understand.

_(3 / 3 equals 1)_

One of the many ugly qualities you see in three is its inability to be divided by anything other than itself. When you take three people going three arguably separate ways, each person ends up alone.

_(3 – 1 equals 2)_

When you wake up and find the note with the music box, you start to wonder if there's something wrong with you because people just seem to keep leaving. Your boyfriend stops acknowledging your existence, your best friend dies, your only other close friend does nothing but make your life hell, and now your mother's disappeared.

You throw the music box in the trash can. If all you needed was love, then Lianne would never have left.

_((d/dx)(1) equals 0)_

You know you can't go back. Lilly Kane is buried six feet underground, the only trace of your mother is a note rotting in a landfill somewhere, and the last pieces of your innocence are trapped in a hazy December night passed in Shelley Pomeroy's guest bedroom.

You're a lonely 'one' again, and you're not sure exactly how you ended up here. The problem with being a constant is that there are no clues to decipher the rate of change. You can differentiate it over and over again but never see anything other than a mocking zero.

You might have missed that class, because you feel as though your past is just beyond your reach. If you can find Lilly's murderer, everything can just fall back into place. You really believe that if you can do that, then that zero will finally show you how you got here so that you can get back.

_(integral(1dx) equals x + C)_

The nasty thing about time is that it moves forward relentlessly. Outwardly, you've accepted that everything is different than it was when Lilly was alive. Inwardly, you're still screaming and crying and struggling against your dad to get to her, because you know this is all some cruel joke that she's playing on you.

But time does move forward, and eventually it's not quite as hard to believe that Inner Veronica and Outer Veronica are the same person. One day, you come to school and find your new constant taped naked to the flagpole. His name is Wallace, and he's the anti-Lilly; as a person and as a friend.

You resist at first, because you'd been trying to find a rate of change to lead you back. Adding new people to your equations just hadn't been in your game plan.


End file.
